


The Crystalline Maneuver

by Merfilly



Category: Crystal Singer Trilogy - McCaffrey, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Community: multiverse5000, Crossover, Gen, Multiverse Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-18
Updated: 2010-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <em>Enterprise</em> falls through a wormhole and needs a replacement for dilithium crystals. Trag is the Singer that goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crystalline Maneuver

"Engineering, status?" Kirk asked with a hope that the ship's intercom system still worked.

The two words were hardly even necessary at this point. It was obvious that power was at a dangerously low level, with most of the energy for lights and instruments both diverted into life support and shielding. The ever-present thrum of the ship's engines was no longer tingling through the decking to his feet. That they were still alive after that chaotic ride through a wormhole was a miracle in itself; to hope for anything more than an unbreached warp core was futile.

"Scotty?"

Kirk thought he had his voice tuned carefully to 'report now' rather than 'report, dammit, you're scaring me about my ship!' as had been pointed out to him in the past by Bones.

"Captain, aye... she's in sad shape down here. Bringing auxiliary power online, but warp is completely offline. May take us a bit of time to get her fixed this go around," Scotty replied, his voice gone tight with the pain of his beloved ship's plight.

The idea that he, Scotty, and _Enterprise_ existed in a de facto menage à trois was the first ludicrous thought through Kirk's mind. In its own way, it helped to settle him down from the hair-raising journey of the wormhole.

"Spock, analysis. Sulu, navigational bearings? Bones...Bones, any casualty reports?" Kirk asked them all together, knowing each one would go in turn...with Bones taking forever if there was anyone he was treating. It was the way his crew worked.

"Captain, the inter-spatial disruption has caused the sensors to have severe fluctuation, and until Mister Scott is fully in command of the Engineering dysfunctions, I do not think it wise to stress the ship's power abilities. Passive scanning is in effect and I will be analyzing the data as it comes in. I can say with ninety eight point five three certainty, the ship is not currently in danger." Spock's brief explanation made Kirk's lips twitch with a half of a smile.

"Do keep an eye on that one point four seven percent for us, Mister Chekov," Kirk said as he turned his head to the two junior officers ahead of him.

"Sir?" Chekov asked, a little confused, which made Uhura smile while scanning the frequencies for any sub-space chatter. Spock merely raised his eyebrow once before turning back to his data viewer.

"Sulu?" Kirk prompted with an idle hand wave to Chekov for him to return to data analysis.

"This quadrant is not familiar," Sulu reported. "Mapping long-range star scans to try and fit it into place, captain," he added.

"Good. Keep up the good work." Kirk then hit the button for medical again. "Bones?"

"Dammit, Jim, I'm up to my neck with people calling in bumped noggins and scratched elbows! Don't you think I would have told you if it was serious, or made Chapel do it?!"

"I'll take that as a 'no' on major casualties. Bridge out." Despite the potential severity of the situation, Kirk could feel his blood humming with anticipation for the action to come. They were in unknown space, with a functional if wounded first-of-the-line ship. He had the best crew in Starfleet to boot, so everything would be fine.

All they needed was a Scotty-sized miracle.

`~`~`~`~`

"I cannot do it," Scotty said with a despairing tone that Kirk never wanted to hear from his Chief Engineer again. "The dilithium crystals are all beyond repair, and we've no spares aboard, sir," Scotty finished up. "Impulse power's not much to run on, but it will get us to the closest system in due time. We've got all we need to live off of, and the ship is in fine condition, all things considered. But with no crystals to focus the warp core, we cannot even begin to think of recreating the events that opened the wormhole, let alone get us home."

"Easy, Scotty; you've gotten us out of worse, before. It's just the matter of finding a good replacement," Kirk said.

"Captain, may I point out that there is a system at close range, possessing both satellites and space travel as far as our sensors may ascertain?" Spock pointed out. Kirk looked at him, then back to Scotty.

"See? A little exploring, learn what the natives use for space flight, and we'll be home in time for our scheduled refit!" Kirk told his Chief Engineer, only to receive a disbelieving look from Scotty, and arched brow from Spock, and a mutter of 'how will we protect the ship' from Chekov who had evidently inherited a full pessimistic mood range from his Russian fore-bearers

"Shall I lay in a course to let us monitor the new civilization?" Sulu asked wryly, as game for a new adventure as Kirk ever was.

"Certainly. Uhura, start capturing the space chatter, and get us a working fix for our Universal Translators." Kirk looked her way, saw the exasperation on her features, and then just had to smile. "Gentlemen, ladies; look at the plus side of what we do have, what did not happen, and remember what we've done with less." He stood, indicating he was done with the informal briefing, and the rest of them moved out.

`~`~`~`~`

The almost panicked request to the Heptite Guild was put through all the usual communication channels before being deemed real enough to put on the plate of the number two man in the entire organization. After all, how often did humans from a completely unknown sector of the galaxy, with strange technology and a ship unlike anything ever seen just pop up and ask in a neighborly manner for assistance?

Trag had not expected the planet of Optheria to return to his pile of potential problems so soon after the fiasco of the investigation. Of course, even he had some memory issues, for the date of his involvement in that matter turned out to have been a full decade before. That made sense; Lars Dahl and Killashandra Ree had been a profitable team for some time now.

Odd how his own time sense distorted. Matters of the Guild on planet seemed crisp and clear, but the issues of off-world concerns blurred into a long run of annoyances. Still, there was a reason he was Lanzecki's right hand for these matters. He read over the transcript of the request, evaluated it, and finally sent a reply. Perhaps, with a study of some other form of crystal, Trag would find a route to take with Lanzecki to help him bolster the faltering demand for Ballybran crystal.

`~`~`~`~`

"Captain," Uhura began. "I am receiving a reply to our request for assistance with our dilithium crystal."

Kirk leaned forward and looked to the view-screen "Put it on view, Uhura," he said.

"Audio only, sir," she warned before setting it to play.

"This is Deputy Guild Master Trag of the Heptite Guild. Pursuant to your stated need for crystalline energy focal pieces, I will be en route to meet with you with a crystal that should be appropriate to your energy specifications. In return, you will allow the Guild access to the remnants of your own crystals, as a technical trade for the new ones."

"It ends there, sir."

"Frosty son of a gun, isn't he," Bones commented from one side of the bridge, having been conversing with Yeoman Rand about the status of his reports.

"Direct communication is not the equivalent of frozen precipitation, and remarks on his parentage is not apt to assist us in the coming negotiations," Spock argued from his side of the bridge. "According to the information shared with us by the local officials, the Heptite Guild is a major consortium in energy, transportation, and communications."

"Well, let's roll out the red carpet to marketing in a stranglehold," Bones griped.

"Gentlemen," Kirk rebuked softly. He sat back in his chair, rubbing at his chin. "Given the state of their science, Spock, would granting them the remnants of the dilithium crystals breach the Prime Directive?"

"No."

"Then we lose nothing, gain a way back home, and this all becomes one more story for the bar at Space Dock."

"Jim, you are a damn fool optimist," was Bones' ending comment.

`~`~`~`~`

Trag was thankful he had never seen or been near crystals during such a violent deterioration as he studied the crystals in their decayed, broken state among the various data feeds the helpful strangers had sent him. As rarely as he cut crystal, his hand itched for the hum of the cutter to be used on those fragile, broken pieces. The B&amp;B ship had delivered him to Optheria, where the world was building itself as a pastoral, peaceful, but open, world for breaking free of the galaxy wide rat-race.

Now, he awaited the arrival of the strangers, as they were to meet him here on the planet to discuss matters. He indulged himself with a Bascum brew, enjoying the rich, full flavor in ways that reminded him of that task some years before, with Killashandra and her precociousness. That had been, to Trag's surprise, a blood-stirring event that had alleviated the day-in and day-out of his duties' boredom.

"Deputy Guild Master?" came the voice of a bold human, one who had neither fear nor arrogance where dealings with other beings was concerned. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the starship _Enterprise_ from the Federation."

Trag turned to see a man of average height in the oddest uniform he had ever encountered before. Snug pants, high boots, and a tight fitting tunic in gold with braid and insignia of a foreign power were practical for space yet also designed to draw attention. Beyond the speaker two men in similar uniforms, though with different insignia and blue tunics instead, waited silently. The shorter of the pair bounced a bit from heel to toe, while the taller... fascinated Trag. He wondered just what planetary elements had resulted in such angular ears and features, or that subtly different cast of the skin, a deeper olive-to-sallow than Trag recalled seeing on any person he'd met. He almost wondered what the man would look like even without the filtering contacts he wore.

"Call me Trag, or these proceedings will get lengthy with titles," he said diffidently, blocking his interest in the tall one from his voice.

"This is my First Officer, Mister Spock, and my Chief Medical Officer McCoy."

Trag noticed the distinctions in the styles of address for self and compatriots, that he had used full title and placement for himself, affording the First Officer a modicum of exaltation in the title, and then displaying a lazy informality in his introduction of his medical officer. It made for a more relaxed environment, Trag decided, as it meant the culture he was dealing with was neither as fundie, and his lips nearly twitched at remembering that term, as the Trundimoux, nor as militant as the uniforms might have implied. Overall, his impression of them fit with his general view of people who lived and worked in space, bound to no single planet. Despite the obvious mutations of the First Officer, they were merely people.

"It would be easier to discuss this aboard our ship, as our Engineer is most eager to see what can be done utilizing...Ballybran? crystal." The captain smiled, and Trag nodded, gathering his cutter case, as well as the plasfoam crate with the required crystal for the trade.

"You have a shuttle?" Trag queried.

"Don't I wish," McCoy muttered, before Kirk took out a small device to speak into.

"_Enterprise_, four to beam up."

The feel of energy gripping Trag, before he could make any protest or action, was most disconcerting, not only to him, but to the symbiont in his cells, leading to a sensory event that was nearly as bad as entering Singularity Drive without being immersed in radiant fluid first. The Deputy Guild Master remained just where he was, using his lessons from Killashandra in acting the part by looking faintly annoyed at such an action without his permission, until his equilibrium balanced. He then moved to one side, and checked the crystal for any harmful resonances from the unknown energy transmission. Luckily, the plasfoam had apparently been enough to protect them.

"Ahh, the man with our miracle!" burst from the man that was operating the transmission device console. His voice was distinctly canted in a far more musical dialect behind the words he spoke, possibly causing Trag to feel a touch more inclined to forgive him for the awful breach of privacy that the captain had pulled.

"Trag, this is Lieutenant Commander Scott," Kirk introduced.

"Call me Scotty," the man insisted, before indicating the doors out of the transporter room.

"Captain, I would choose to accompany the Deputy Guild Master and Mister Scott," Spock interjected.

"Of course. Trag, you have the freedom of my ship under their guidance," Kirk answered, whereupon Spock joined both Trag and Scotty for the journey to Engineering.

`~`~`~`~`

The first thing Trag could sense from the shattered crystals in the warp matrix was that they did not resonate in the same way as white, blue, green, purple, rose, or black crystals. In fact, he was unsure if they could resonate at all, and the fragments he had to experiment were all so pitifully ravaged. However, with Scotty telling him how they focused the matter-antimatter exchange for warp capability, Trag was not easily daunted from testing them and seeing how much use they might be to Ballybran. They certainly had a distinct mineral reading, one that sparked similarities to green crystal, near as he could tell.

Luckily, Trag's thoughts of the dilithium crystals being similar enough to the greens were in his favor as he thought of the triad he had brought of the deep green crystals. He had brackets, and it did not take long for Scotty to realign the dilithium chamber to accept the brackets.

"All your ship drives, communications, everything?" Scotty asked again, after having digested the use of crystal as explained by Trag.

"There are alternatives. However, none of them quite reach the same potential." Trag read over the diagrams of the way the core and crystals interacted. He would have to be very careful on this. "Scotty, you will need to fine tune the harmonics of the drive...the core, actually. It cannot resonate off pitch, or the crystals will degrade and shatter in time."

Scotty grinned. "Been fixing my engines by pitch for years; just give me the frequency, and I'll have her humming strong in no time."

Trag faced the jovial engineer, seeing that he was as caught up in his line of work as any Singer could be. He gave a slight smile, then nodded and produced the pitch he knew would best accompany the C note he would tune the greens to.

"Fascinating that the energy sources of your worlds could be so aesthetically pleasing to the eye and the ear," Spock noted from where he was watching, approving the minute changes in energy flow as it passed his severe tests.

Trag looked his way, taking in the variety of ways the man looked like the crystal he spoke of. There was something...a deep undercurrent that pricked at Trag's nerves as he studied the First Officer, but he said nothing before unpacking his cutter.

"I will require a sound proofed chamber to tune the crystals down from their original cut to your needs. It is a discordant experience for many, so the sound proofing is for both your crew's benefit, and to protect the crystal from any unwarranted noise during the retuning." Trag nodded politely to Scotty. "I can tune them while you make your adjustments, and then we shall set the crystal to the brackets, adjust, and begin power tests."

"Aye, sir," Scotty told him, relieved to work with such a consummate professional for once. These were his engines, his baby, and the feeling from Trag was of a man that was dedicated to his own trade at least as much as Scotty himself was.

"I will take you to a suitable work area," Spock said. "This way."

Trag followed, still feeling a deep curiosity about the man. He remained silent, though, his concentration on preparing to tune crystal for an application it had not been proven for. Only as he set up the portable brackets for holding the greens did he look at Spock. "The harmonics can be disconcerting," he warned.

"I am intrigued by the process," Spock admitted.

"Very well." Trag was thankful he had gone to the Ranges recently, so that his symbiont was recharged and less likely to latch onto the cry of the crystal when he began his cuts. He started with the satellite pair, hearing the tones in his mind even as he pulled the cutter free of its case.

The crystal hummed softly in its original key when he tapped it lightly. Tuning out the presence of the other man, Trag brought the cutter into position, beginning the delicate work of rekeying crystal.

`~`~`~`~`

Spock heard the crystal hum, noting the way it seemed energized. He wondered with scientific curiosity what the Horta would make of such a crystalline structure as the green pieces seemed to possess. Their piezoelectric potential was higher than anything Spock had ever seen, and it made him wonder if there were ways to adapt the Deputy Guild Master's techniques and designs to further enhance dilithium usage.

Then Trag drew the cutting surface to the crystal and the only experience Spock could match the cry of the crystal to was the death-cry of the Taygetians. The analogy struck Spock in the more emotional center of his being, but the logical side deemed it a fair analogy. He turned his observations to the man of medium but stocky build, seeing how he set his frame, and the look of his face. Trag had carried a solidly professional demeanor throughout the lengthy process in Engineering, but now, as he caused the crystal to cry and eventually sing in a new note, the man's face was both more open and yet turned inward. Spock, by virtue of the intuition that he was careful to never admit to, surmised that the reason for the small numbers involved in the Heptite Guild, despite demand for the crystal, was likely caused by what he was observing. Like the Taygetians, with their psychic voices, the Cutters, or Singers as he recalled having seen in the entries, were attuned to their world, which produced the phenomenal crystal. Spock was curious, however, at the nature of the attunement, given that all Ballybran residents were evidently immigrants there.

As Trag finished both satellite pieces and turned his attention to the slightly larger middle piece, Spock noted the concentration of the man increased intently. Fighting the cutter seemed more evident, and the cry of the crystal was all the more stringent on Spock's ears and more atavistic nervous system. He consciously suppressed the pain, then maintained his composure as the 'king' crystal sang true to its brethren. It was difficult, as it had been on Taygeta IV to hear the chorus there and touch the mind of those beings.

Spock watched as Trag stood back, the pure note echoing clearly as the cutter was powered off, and saw as he pulled himself into that professional façade once more. It was intriguing to the half-human to see another who managed to steel his outward expression from mirroring what lay beneath.

"Fascinating," he said, once the note had died away, and Trag seemed completely in command of the crystal thrall's effect. "Physically draining as that appeared to be, perhaps it would be wise to take refreshment prior to returning to Engineering?"

"I believe that course would be suitable," Trag agreed, carefully packing his cutter away, and then returning the crystal to the plasfoam crate.

`~`~`~`~`

Setting the crystal into place was almost a disappointment, for as they brought the power regulators on line and focused the energies through the crystal trio, they sang in such harmony and converted the power needed with such efficiency that Scotty could only triple check in pessimism, and be amazed at the results.

Spock looked at Trag, both men exchanging a knowing look that there could have been no doubt, once they had modified every thing involved in the couplings and power exchanges. "Trag, now that you have satisfied our own needs for power, I am curious as to your intentions with the shattered dilithium," Spock told him as he packed away his tools for setting the brackets.

Trag paused, then methodically closed the case he carried everything in, and raised an eyebrow in such perfect mirroring of one of Spock's own expressions that the Vulcan wondered if he were being mocked subtly. Then Trag spoke, and Spock realized that the mannerism was merely a shared one for expressing curiosity toward another being or an idea.

"I plan to take them to Research and Development, to see if their focusing ability is something that can be harnessed and worked in conjunction with our own variety of crystal. If so, a discreet search for it will begin, to amplify our abilities to provide the galactic need for crystal."

"You seek to maintain your monopoly?" Spock queried, unsure if such was wise.

Trag's face gave away nothing, but Spock felt an amazing honesty in the words that followed. "The monopoly actually preserves galactic harmony. We maintain scrupulous neutrality, provide materials on an even basis through the worlds, and keep the bloodier corporate wars from happening over technological development. Our unique position in the hierarchy, our planet's inaccessibility, and the nature of our product actually reinforce this approach to the monopoly we hold."

"Logical, but there is still human nature to contend with, is there not?" Spock reasoned, even as they made their way out of Engineering with the damaged dilithium and Trag's tools.

"Mister Spock, while all of our people have begun as humans in a narrow range of that category, I assure you, a Heptite Guild Member has left their infancy behind them," Trag said in enigmatic tones. Spock thought to probe that, but, perhaps for sake of preserving the underlying, unspoken kinship, he let the matter go.

`~`~`~`~`

The beaming back to Optheria, where the small scout B&amp;B ship awaited him was just as traumatic on the symbiont, but at least this time, Trag was expecting it. He wondered many things about the ship and its crew, but considered the trade well worth his time, if it opened new doors in crystal research. Already, there was some promise, for the shattered dilithium had begun resonating in discordant tones at the presence of the slivers of green he had shaved off the triad.

Trag would be certain to look in on R&amp;D often, as they explored the new crystalline type, and keep Lanzecki up to date on the matter once it showed any promise. As a final passing thought on the crew of the _Enterprise_, he wondered if their own technology would improve, after learning about the crystal resonance and harmonizing that Ballybran crystal employed. If Spock and Scotty were any indicators, Trag theorized they would soon see breakthroughs in their use of dilithium that would increase power outputs ten-fold.

It was a good thought to complete his excursion on, as he slipped into the radiant tank aboard the B&amp;B for the journey home.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.This is set in the nebulous time period between _Killashandra_ and _Crystal Line_ for Trag, and somewhere within the missions of the _Enterprise_ prior to Kirk's Admiralty the first time around.
> 
> 2.Taygeta IV and its inhabitants are borrowed from _Tears of the Singers_ by Melinda Snodgrass (19 in the Pocket Book series).
> 
> 3.The closing paragraphs are a supposition on how the Warp Factors exponentially increased by the time of TNG.


End file.
